Of Burnt Bread and Pumpkin Pie
by Mrs. Elizabeth Gibbs
Summary: A slight AU in which there is fluff, happiness, family, and Gibbs burns the dinner rolls. A Thanksgiving, fluffy one-shot that is Jibbs and family-oriented. For AliviaAlise!


A/N: So apparently my muse just hates my two current stories and will only write prompt-induced stories for friends. Not that I'm complaining, or anything, but, you know…it's getting old. The prompts for this one were as follows: pregnant!Jenny, Thanksgiving, thankfulness, fluff, and Jethro burns the bread. I added a few things, and I had a wonderful time writing this :)

This one is for Alivia- I'm getting this one out for the holiday, but your other story should be up within the next week or so. I hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I only own Andrew; none of the original characters are mine.

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><p>It felt odd to Jenny to not be doing anything in preparation for Thanksgiving.<p>

For the past decade she'd spent all day in the kitchen with her mother, cooking dinner for her husband and father-in-law, and as of the past six years, her son. But this year she was confined to the couch, entertaining said six-year-old and father-in-law.

She was seven months into her second pregnancy, and it had been difficult every step of the way. She'd almost lost the baby at twenty four weeks, and had been on bed rest ever since. So, Jethro was in the kitchen with her mother and Ziva, who had been recruited as well as she had no one else in the States to celebrate with. The past few years, she'd spent it with them, and they wouldn't have it any other way.

"Jen, relax."

She jumped slightly at the deep voice that came from behind her and the rough hand that settled on the back of her neck. She turned, glaring at her husband as he came around the couch and settled next to her, kissing her quickly.

"That was unnecessary," she said, folding her arms and continuing to glare at him. He grinned, his sapphire eyes glinting in amusement.

"Ah, I found it funny," he replied, and she rolled her eyes.

"Daddy, look at what I colored!"

Both parents turned towards the sound of their son's voice, their faces splitting into smiles. Andrew Jasper, with his gap-toothed smile and big emerald eyes, was the light of his parent's lives. He'd been a surprise to them, one that had taken the full nine months for them to be ready for, but now they couldn't imagine life without the intelligent, endearing child.

"Whatdya color kiddo?" Jethro asked as Andrew came over, pulling him onto his lap as his son showed him his drawing.

"It's a turkey!" Andrew exclaimed, and pointed to each of the feathers. "It has a feather for you and Mommy, and for Grandpa Jack, and Grandma, and for the baby."

"It's very pretty Drew," Jenny said, stroking his hair and smiling at him, causing him to grin and blush.

"I maded you a picture too Mommy," Andrew said, showing her the other paper. "It's a cornticopa."

"You mean a cornucopia," Jethro corrected, and Andrew nodded, handing Jenny the paper.

"Thank you sweetheart it's beautiful," she said, leaning over and kissing his cheek. "You're becoming quite the artist. Soon you'll be competing with Renoir."

"You just got compared to Mommy's favorite painter, Andy," Jethro said, tickling his sides, making the boy giggle. "You're practically famous now."

There was a knock on the door, and Ziva headed out of the kitchen to answer it. Jenny leaned back against the pillows, pressing a hand to her belly and closing her eyes briefly. Jethro's hand covered hers and she opened her eyes, sending him a reassuring smile that didn't alleviate the worry in his eyes.

"Happy Thanksgiving!" Jackson Gibbs said as he entered the living room, a smile on his face. Andrew slid off his father's lap and ran to his grandfather, hugging him tightly.

"Grandpa Jack!" he cried as the older man swung him up into a hug, kissing the child's head. Jack wasn't able to visit from Stillwater as often as he'd like, and with work schedules from both Jenny and Jethro being as demanding as they were, vacations were infrequent. So when they were together, Andrew drank in every moment with his grandfather.

"Hey buddy. How ya been?" he asked, setting his grandson down and walking with him over to his parents, smiling as he listening to his grandson. He kissed Jenny's cheek and received a hug from his son before sitting next to his daughter-in-law.

"You look good Jenny- how are you feeling?" Jack asked, settling Andrew on his lap.

"Tired," Jenny admitted, resting comfortably against the pillows. "But the bed rest has been helpful; there hasn't been as much pain, and she moves around more now. It's just going to be a long two months until January."

Jethro left his wife and son to converse with his father and returned to the kitchen, where his mother-in-law and Ziva were in the midst of mashing potatoes.

Margaret Shepard was a formidable woman, Jethro had to admit. She'd raised Jenny right, and her soft side was hard to come by. But after being married to her daughter for over a decade, they'd become closer.

"Did I hear Jackson come in?" she asked, turning from her work and pushing her graying hair back from her dark green eyes.

"Yeah, he's with Jen and Andy," Jethro replied, and Margaret softened at the mention of her family. "Go on out and see him, I'll be fine. Ziver, go with 'er."

Both women sent him grateful smiles, and Margaret squeezed his hand as she walked by. His mouth turned up into a slight smirk, and he made his way over to the stove. He checked on the baking rolls and then shut the oven door, giving them another few minutes.

He leaned back against the counter, resting his head on the cabinet as he closed his eyes, thinking back on his life.

He'd almost lost Jenny twice. First because their lack of communication had driven them apart months before Andrew's birthday, and second because Hollis had turned back up, begging him to take her back. It had been a bumpy ride over the years, dealing with adjusting to marriage and having Andrew and welcoming his dad back into his life and learning that Jenny had a mother. And, these past few months had been filled with Jenny's pregnancy and the scares it had brought along with it.

He wouldn't change a thing though. Their life was dysfunctional because their love was dysfunctional, and that was what defined them. They were happy, and they trusted each other, and they were comfortable in their life.

He was so incredibly thankful for his family, and his life, and although he didn't believe in God all that much, he knew someone was watching out for him- he sent a thought up to Shannon and Kelly thanking them.

He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that it took him a moment to realize that he was smelling burning rolls.

"Damn," he said under his breath, pulling the smoking tray out.

"Leroy Jethro Gibbs, why do I smell burning bread?" he cringed at the sound of his wife's voice, rubbing the back of his neck with the heel of his hand.

"We've still got pumpkin pie, Jen," he called back, and Margaret snorted so loudly that he could hear it.

This was the kind of Thanksgiving that he wanted- dysfunctional, crazy, and happy.


End file.
